Sammy off to a stormer

Well, look who's been watching HBA in training: Little Big Lad, who scored on his Smoggie debut on Saturday with a bit of twinkletoes magic and then a firm left-footed curler. The goal - as well as his general trickery and overall performance - had "Are you watching, Silver Fox?" written all over it. His current manager Tony Mowbray was understandably delighted, but he did also warn the loanee that he needs to work harder.

The Smogs' clash with Cardiff also reunited two noted members of our Noughties squad: the Little Waster, who gave the home side the lead by poking in from a yard for his first league goal in six years (and somehow avoiding breaking his toe in the process), and the No-Necked Text Pest, whose whipped corner was headed into the net by Aron Gunnarsson as the Championship leaders threatened a comeback they couldn't quite pull off.

Another French connection

It turns out that Yohan Cabaye isn't the only French defensive midfielder to have broken the news of a move to Tyneside recently. Like Lille's Cabaye, Lens teenager Medhi Abeid has claimed the reason behind the five-year deal is a need for change and a fresh challenge.

It sounds as though we've been tracking the youngster for some time now - "I have had contact dating back some time and I visited the facilities there [St James's Park] last week. I even trained with the reserve team" - and also that Hatem Ben Arfa and Mr T have done a sterling job of selling the club abroad.

Meanwhile, yesterday's Sun had us linked with a move for Dimitar Berbatov. Not only does it seem fanciful that we might be able to recruit the Man Utd striker because he's the Premier League's joint top goalscorer - at 30 years of age and on a hefty salary he hardly fits the criteria that ASBO claims Jabba and Llambiarse are looking for.

As a child back in his native Bulgaria, Berbatov did famously sleep in a Newcastle shirt, though I suspect that may have been more out of idolising Wor Al than any serious affection for the club that may have carried through into adulthood. Of course he's a very good player, but one thing's for certain: if we were to sign him, the strikeforce he'd form with Big Lad would be the laziest-looking in memory...

Even more improbable, I assume, is the possibility of Cardiff fans getting their wish and seeing our former no-necked text pest named as their new manager. If Bellamy does ever go into management, he'd be likely to spend more time banned in the stand than on the touchline...

Forster first in the bath

Not a good afternoon for Fraser Forster, who chose a particularly inopportune moment to receive his first red card for Celtic: an Old Firm game in the Scottish Cup. Thankfully for our on-loan 'keeper, it didn't prove too costly, despite the simultaneous concession of a penalty which Rangers duly scored, as Celtic battled to force a replay.

By contrast, joy unconfined for the No-Necked Text Pest, who captained his hometown club to victory over bitter derby rivals Swansea, scoring the decisive goal from distance with barely five minutes left on the clock. Wonder if he'll be out on the town to celebrate?

Speaking of former strikers, click here to witness a fan's spectacularly unsuccessful attempt to burn a shirt in protest at Rocky's departure. If he needs tips on how to set things ablaze, he should get in contact with the person responsible for torching Rocky's Range Rover...

Shit hits the fan

Time to wheel out that old headline - for it's being reported that young Master Bellamy has been up to his old antics. Following in the footsteps of our very own ASBO, Wor Al's text mate is alleged to have indulged in a spot of fisticuffs outside a fast food establishment (Caroline Street being better known in the Welsh capital as Chippy Alley) and has been released on bail.

In other aggro news, it transpires that on Saturday, far from being assaulted by an enraged Toon fan as was first pathetically assumed in some quarters, Stevenage left-back Scott Laird was actually dealt a post-match haymaker by a local out to avenge the fact that, er, the player once used to go out with his missus. Say what you like about the pitch-invading clown, but you can't deny he was more intent on a knock-out than our woeful side was...